


White roses

by interstred



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25953838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstred/pseuds/interstred
Summary: au, where Natasha is a theater actress, and Bruce is a spectator who doesn't miss her performances.he always brings flowers to her.  she always looks at him when she speaks monologues, it seems to him that all these words she says to him.and one day he decides to take her home.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov
Kudos: 10





	White roses

Bruce pulled into the parking lot, found an empty spot, parked it, and drowned out the car. He looked at his wristwatch and muttered something like "when will I learn to keep track of the time", got out, closed the car and walked briskly towards the intersection. Time was short, he had to hurry.

The flower shop on the corner gleamed welcomingly with colored lights from the windows. Bruce opened the door, the bell rang. A florist looked out from the back room:

\- Oh, hello. Today you're late, - she smiled affably, opening the refrigerator room with her usual gesture and heading for flowers. There was no need to ask what he needed - the man appeared here so often that the girl was already used to him.  
\- Yes, at the end of the shift the patrolmen brought in some drunken inadequate man. I didn't manage to leave in time, so I had to register it. Not hard, but it takes time.  
\- Well, as long as selfless men like you are on guard for our safety, we feel safe, - said the florist openly, looking askance at Bruce and composing a composition of white roses.  
Bruce ran his hand through his hair and (for the hundredth time in a day) ruffled it, trying to figure out what to say. But the girl didn't wait for an answer.  
\- Your roses are ready. You've got fifteen dollars.  
\- You are great at making flowers. How many times have I come to you, and the bouquets are always different, - Bruce sincerely admired, taking out the money and paying.  
The florist only smiled warmly as she accepted the payment.  
Bruce carefully took the bouquet, turned around and left, carefully holding the door behind him so that he would not slam. The girl took a deep breath, put the money in the cashier, put her elbows on the table and lowered her chin in them, watching the man walk down the street, covering the bouquet from the still cold spring wind.

He didn't remember exactly how he got into the theater. It seems that a colleague called Bruce, after colleague's girlfriend refused him. It's not that he doesn't like theaters, he just didn't go to it. The work took all of his time, sometimes calls were pulled at night. Police work leaves a little for sensitivity and sublime emotions. But then he agreed, because he didn't know what to do with himself that evening.  
It was an adaptation of some Russian play. Ostrovsky or Chekhov, the devil will take them apart. Some kind of boredom about a poor girl who was supposed to marry a rich young man. Classic, in a word. Therefore, Bruce watched with one eye what was happening, with the other he tried to completely stay awake. Until he heard a voice. A feminine, beautiful voice that penetrated to the very foundation of his soul. He opened his eyes, perked up and began to look with his eyes for the source of this voice. It was an actress, she played a sister or cousin, in general, a secondary role. She was isn't tall, red-haired, with an amazing voice. The play suddenly became interesting to him. He listened attentively, trying not to miss a word, and at the same time didn't take his eyes off the actress, as if afraid that she would disappear.  
When intermission was announced, he jumped up and went to the poster to find out her name. "Natalie Rushman" - he read the inscription under her picture.  
The end of the performance was a real grief for him. The actors went backstage, and he went outside, took a deep breath of the cold autumn air and realized that he was hit. Fell in love. With girl he saw for the first time in his life. About which he knows nothing. The actress, whom he saw only in the image, not knowing what kind of real she was.

Since then, he hasn't missed a single performance with her participation. He saw her crying, laughing, screaming, whispering, speaking short phrases and long monologues, dressed in chic dresses and in torn rags. He saw her in different ways and it seemed to him that he had known her for a very, very long time.

Bruce always brought her a bouquet of flowers. Different every time, but always made of white roses. He never gave her flowers in person, always passing them through the guards.  
And he always watched only her on stage, and if she was not there, he looked forward to her appearance.

Many times it occurred to him to take advantage of his official position and find out everything about her - where is she from, who is her family, where he lives. However, the thought that it was low and somehow mean, stopped him. He hoped one day to muster the courage and approach her personally, to meet her, to earn her trust - and it is rather difficult to trust the person who has collected a whole dossier on you behind your back.Therefore, he gave up this idea every time.

And today - what kind of performance it was, he no longer remembered - he came to the theater again. Back to her. Again with a bouquet. The cloakroom attendants already knew him, and even always hung his coat in the same place on a separate hanger. The secret is simple - he always smiled and complimented them. Finding a familiar security guard, Bruce handed him a bouquet with a card "for Natalie Rushman" and went into the hall, where he took his place - always the same.

\- Half an hour before the release! - Nat heard the director's voice from her dressing room. During a year of work in the theater, she acquired a personal dressing room and even had her own dressing room (well, almost, rather, Nat was a priority).  
She lit a cigarette and leaned back in her chair. Makeup is ready, she remembered the words, she will fit into a dress in five minutes. Small break.  
She looked at herself in the mirror. "You will soon be thirty, Natasha. What do you have?" A small apartment, the job was also pretty good, there were even a couple of fans. By the way, speaking of the fans ..  
Her gaze fell on a bunch of white roses standing on the windowsill. It always had a special place in her dressing room. She began to receive roses in the fall, more than six months ago. It always had a card with her name, some nice compliment and not a word about the sender. Although .. At about the same time, she began to notice one man among the audience - it wasn't easy, because it was difficult to look into the hall during the performance - but this man was hard not to notice. He always looked at her with admiration, as if he were a traveler who walked for several days in the desert, and she was a spring with water. At first, this confused her and even a little scared, but later she began to treat him as a source of inspiration. And she even began to utter long monologues, looking exclusively at him - as if his gaze gave her strength.  
Suddenly the door began to open and Natasha quickly put out her cigarette. Mary, the main make-up artist, entered the dressing room.  
\- Well, ready?  
\- I.. almost.  
\- Let me see, - Mary came close to Nat and began to examine her carefully.  
\- Mary, do you think he will come today? - Nat asked unexpectedly, without taking her eyes off the roses.  
\- Who, Mr. Whiterose? Of course he will come. Remember, did he miss your show at least once in the last six months?  
\- Never like.  
\- That's what I mean. So, are you ready, honey, put on a dress, I will help, - Mary turned to the rack with clothes.

"If only he hadn't come," - she chuckled, - "The whole theater is watching them, from the cloakroom attendant to the director, everyone is already waiting for what he will do next."

\- Ten minutes before the release!

Today something was wrong, something was different from all the previous performances. Bruce didn’t know what it was, but it seemed to be in the air and if he concentrate a little, he will understand what it is. But he couldn't concentrate.  
Already sitting in the hall, in complete darkness, seconds before the start of the performance, he felt the usual impatience and anticipation of waiting for the moment when the performance would begin and she would appear on the stage.

Today's performance was a beautiful fairy tale of love. Rogues, adventure, danger, battles. Natalie played Robin, and she was irresistible in her role, the clothes only gave her extra charm. She was so sincere, it seemed that she was not acting, but simply living on stage - Bruce could not stop admiring her every line and every gesture. In one of the scenes, she turned to the audience, found him with her gaze and began to speak tenderly, with love, it seemed, looking straight into Bruce's eyes:

"I know this must come as something of a surprise, since all I’ve ever done is scorn you and degrade you and taunt you, but I have loved you for several hours now, and every second, more. I thought an hour ago that I loved you more than any woman has ever loved a man, but a half hour after that I knew that what I felt before was nothing compared to what I felt then. But ten minutes after that, I understood that my previous love was a puddle compared to the high seas before a storm. Your eyes are like that, did you know? Well, they are. How many minutes ago was I? Twenty? Had I brought my feelings up to then? It doesn’t matter. I love you so much more now than twenty minutes ago that there cannot be comparison. I love you so much more now than when you opened your hovel door, there cannot be comparison. There is no room in my body for anything but you. My arms love you, my ears adore you, my knees shake with blind affection. My mind begs you to ask it something so it can obey. Do you want me to follow you for the rest of your days? I will do that. Do you want me to crawl? I will crawl. I will be quiet for you or sing for you, or if you are hungry, let me bring you food, or if you have thirst and nothing will quench it but Arabian wine, I will go to Araby, even though it is across the world, and bring a bottle back for your lunch. Anything there is that I can do for you, I will do for you; anything there is that I cannot do, I will learn to do. I know I cannot compete with the Countess in skills or wisdom or appeal, and I saw the way she looked at you. And I saw the way you looked at her. But remember, please, that he is old and has other interests, while I am seventeen and for me there is only you. Dearest Westley–I’ve never called you that before, have I?–Westley, Westley, Westley, Westley, Westley,–darling Westley, adored Westley, sweet perfect Westley, whisper that I have a chance to win your love."

Natalie turned away, following the role, and Bruce remained in his place, unable to take his eyes off, and practically not breathing. What was it? Why did it seem to him that she was looking at him and as if she were saying all this to him? Or didn’t it seem?  
Intermission had already been announced, and he was still sitting in his place, not trying to get up, but trying to realize what it was, and most importantly - to comprehend his reaction to it.  
With the beginning of the second act, he made a decision and was firmly convinced of it - today is the time to step over himself and approach her.  
The finale of the performance only strengthened his determination - he is not ready to regret all his life that he once did not dare to do it.

\- Great job, Natalie, well done! - praised her director Nick, hugging her, - Guys, you are all great today, you played amazingly! See you in a couple of days.  
Nate went to the dressing room. She want to change clothes, go home, feed the cat and crash down to watch another movie from her favorite superhero series.  
She went into the dressing room and immediately looked at the window. A new bouquet of white roses was waiting for her there. Coming closer, she pulled out a card.  
"If all people were as beautiful as you - both in appearance and soul - our world would be a better place."  
Nate smiled. His messages always cheered her up.  
Half an hour later, she left the dressing room, closing it behind her and straightening the scarf that had moved down. She went down the stairs, nodded to the guard, waved to the cloakroom attendants, went out the main doors and stopped, her head thrown back and her eyes closed to breathe in the relatively fresh spring air of the night city.

\- Natalie Rushman?

She turned her head and saw a middle-aged man, not tall, in a black coat, with dark curly hair. He was vaguely familiar to her.

\- Mr. Whiterose? - she suddenly guessed.  
\- What? - The man asked in bewilderment, - I'm not Whiterose.. Ah, in that sense .. - he smiled slightly, - then probably yes, it's me.  
\- Call me Natasha, or Nat.  
\- I'm Bruce.  
\- Nice to meet you at last, Bruce, - Nat held out her hand.  
Bruce brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.  
\- You would know how glad I am to finally meet you. Your role as Robin today is great, I'm extremely impressed with you.  
Nat was embarrassed.  
\- Thank you. I'm very pleased to hear that.  
\- I .. - he hesitated, but continued to speak, - will you allow me to take you home? I can tell you about my impressions of your other roles, - he, with a certain hope in his voice saying this, held out his hand to her.  
Natasha looked at him carefully, and, taking a deep breath, answered:  
\- I agree, and held out her hand to him.

***

On the third floor of the theater, in the utility room by the window, the cloakroom attendant Susan and the make-up artist Mary stood watching the couple downstairs. When the girl extended her hand to the man and they walked in one direction together, Susan grunted in disappointment and thrust a five-dollar bill into the outstretched hand of a rather smiling Mary.

**Author's Note:**

> The performance which Nat played Robin is "The Princess Bride".


End file.
